


I Could Love You, If I Was Anyone Else

by Whreflections



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Apocalypse, Apocalypse angst, M/M, One Shot, Porn, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-21
Updated: 2012-09-21
Packaged: 2017-11-14 17:18:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/517651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whreflections/pseuds/Whreflections
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A moment between Dean and Cas after battle, desperate for touch and a kind of connection Dean knows they can't really allow themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Could Love You, If I Was Anyone Else

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this prompt at the deancaskinkmeme- Heat of the moment after battle rimming followed by penatration don't mind who does whom

They were barely through the door before Dean slammed it shut, groping around in the dark for the light switch as he kissed Cas hard. He hit it, the single bare bulb in the storage room flickering to life. Neither of them really gave it much notice. His hands were already jerking Cas’ shirt up and over his head, and when their lips met again Cas whimpered against his tongue, desperate.   
  
Dean shrugged his own shirt off, felt it stick to the drying blood on his arms on the way down. He shook it free impatiently, brought his hands back up to cup the angels face as he thrust his tongue rhythmically into his mouth, earning a moan from both of them. Cas pressed against him and he pulled back from the kiss, panting as he yanked his own shirt over his head and tossed it to the side. He toed off his boots quickly, his hands efficiently unfastening first his belt and then Cas’.   
  
“ _Dean_ ….” Cas wrapped a warm hand around the back of his neck, pulled him in for another passionate kiss before whispering against his lips. “They’ll be waiting for us. Are you sure that-“  
  
“Can’t wait.” He shoved his angel’s jeans down low on his hips, taking his boxers with them, and he fisted his growing erection, rubbed his thumb over the slit and felt Cas twitch in his hand. He groaned, tilted Cas’ head to the side so he could bite down gently on his neck. “ _God_ , yeah, can’t wait. Gotta have you.” He stepped back, shoved his own jeans and boxers down and off his hips, kicking them off and motioning for Cas to do the same. He stepped back toward the center of the floor, shoved two boxes of ammo out of the way. “C’mere, Cas.”   
  
He moved with Dean immediately, so in sync there could have been a magnetic field drawing him. Just like always. Cas’ body melded perfectly against his, his hands roving Dean’s body with practiced skill, soft, needy sounds slipping from his throat as he worked his lips along Dean’s collarbone. As good as it felt, it wasn’t what Dean needed right now. He pushed him back just a little, motioned toward the floor.   
  
“On your knees, let me…yeah. Yeah, just like that.” And how wrong was it, really, that it was that easy? A few words and he had a fucking angel on his hands and knees, panting for him. He’d done nothing to deserve it and it wasn’t _right_  and he should’ve never let things get this far, but he’d stopped fighting that months ago. Instead he fell to his knees, wrapped an arm around Castiel’s waist and nuzzled against the small of his back, pressed a quick kiss there and whispered against his skin. “Ready?”   
  
He didn’t give him a chance to answer. He slid his hand around, pressed his palm against his right cheek and spread him open, gave no other warning before he thrust his tongue inside. Cas cried out, his back arching, and Dean groaned, wished he could reach down to jerk himself off. As it was, he was holding onto Cas too fucking tight to ever let go and he swirled his tongue, let out a hot breath when he felt Cas tremble. He slid his tongue back, brushed wet lips against his opening before he pushed his tongue in again, little tiny thrusts. He could lose himself in this, really. He loved how vocal Cas always was for this, how his body trembled under his hands, how he could get him off just like this without ever touching his cock if he wanted to. Just like this, tongue on muscle and sensitive nerves, his hands gripping hard against Cas’ hips.   
  
His own cock was hard enough to be flush up against his belly, his hips jerking a little against the air. Even so, the sounds Cas was making should have been fucking  _illegal_ , and he’d almost forgotten that he was doing this so he could fuck him and forget about the fact that they’d both nearly died that afternoon. He’d almost forgotten, that was, until Cas reminded him.   
  
He moaned just a little more desperately, his hips pushing back against Dean’s tongue even as he brought a hand back to push against Dean’s hand on his hip, tried to shove it away. “Dean…please, I can’t… _Dean_ …”  
  
Dean moaned against him, swirled his tongue against the loosening muscle one last time before he drew back, brushed his thumb over the now slick entrance. “So fucking hot like this, Cas, you know that? Jesus…” He moved up, fitting his body up against his from behind, one hand going to guide his cock into him. He slipped in easy, did his best not to snap his hips forward right away even though he was desperate. He didn’t have to worry, much. They did this so often Cas’ body had practically molded to his shape. Cas moaned his name, threw his head back turned it, looking for a kiss. If Dean had had any control left, he lost it then. He kissed him, rough and passionate, one hand gripping his hip as his thrust frantically against him. He couldn’t get deep enough, couldn’t bury himself in that heat nearly enough to satisfy the insane craving in his chest and buried his face against his shoulder, gasping.   
  
“God, Cas….Oh God…”   
  
If the blasphemy had bothered him the beginning, he’d long since ceased to care. He shivered, slipped easily into Dean’s rhythm. His own hand came back between his legs to wrap around his cock but Dean growled against his shoulder, let go of the hold on his hip to slide around and do it himself, his touch getting Cas off faster and harder than his own would have. He cried out for Dean as he came and Dean caught up to him after a few more thrusts, breathing a soft curse against Castiel’s neck as he did. He pulled out quicker than he’d’ve liked to, fell onto his back on the concrete and let Cas settle in against his chest.   
  
Out of all of it, it was this part he dreaded, even though if he was honest with himself, it was probably exactly this that he craved the most. Cas all but melted into him, fitting against him like he’d been fucking made to go there and it sliced at him, burned him in ways he could’ve never put in to words. No one should’ve been made for him. No one deserved that kind of punishment.   
  
Cas nuzzled against his jaw, gentle and slow and far too goddamn innocent, and his tongue flicked out carefully to taste the sweat on his neck. “I love you, Dean.”   
  
He always said it, always, and Dean sighed, resigned, turned his head to press a kiss to his forehead. He rubbed his back, felt the slight rise of the scar Cas had gotten from Lucifer himself two months back. “We should get goin’, Cas. Everyone’ll be heading back to Bobby’s and Sam’ll worry if we’re not there to meet him.” It killed him, not saying it, but one of them had to be the strong one. If he died tomorrow, it’d be easier on Cas if he’d never said it. He was doing him a kindness, really.   
  
At least, that’s what he told himself every time he had to pretend it didn’t hurt to see the stupid happy, fuzzy haze drain from those blue eyes, see them fill with defeat and just a little desperation all over again.   
  
“Yes, Dean. Of course.” It always hurt even more when he answered him like that. Not like a lover, not even like a friend, but like _he_  had all the power over him now and Cas had no choice but to do whatever the hell he said. It was wrong and sick and he felt like a bastard all over again every time he heard him talk like that but still….  
  
If he never told Cas he loved him, it’d be easier for him to move on one day when he had to. If he kept things like this, Cas would be able to lose him and move on, keep fighting, keep  _living_. Having Sam’s life in his hands was more than enough. He couldn’t take this responsibility on too, he’d break. Not that he hadn’t already.   
  
Cas moved to pull away from his grip and he held him in place, pressed his lips to his temple and left them there, breathing him in. “Just…lay here with me a minute first, ok? ‘M tired. It’s been a long day.”   
  
He felt him relax, bit his tongue hard enough to draw blood at way Cas lay his head against his chest, kissed the pentagram over his heart. “Whatever you want, Dean. We can stay here for awhile. I’m tired too.”   
  
Dean rubbed his back a little harder, held him just a little tighter.  _I love you, dammit. Goddamit, I love you, Cas, and I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry._  


End file.
